


i heard you

by thunderylee



Category: Good Charlotte
Genre: Canon Universe, Implied Twincest, M/M, Minor Angst, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-21
Updated: 2005-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-08 01:44:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Benji and Paul overhear Joel getting busy and Benji discovers Paul’s dirty little secret.





	i heard you

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

“Oh, my _God_ … _Joel_ … Fuck me harder, baby!”

The volume on the damn TV would not go up loud enough. You’d think that trying to screw while really bad video-game music blared at top volume in the next room would prove quite difficult, but my brother rarely lets anything come between him and his screwing.

“I give him another two minutes,” Paul says, tapping his wrist even though he’s not wearing a watch.

“Nah,” I reply, “It’s been awhile. He might just go all night.”

“Shit.”

Nodding in agreement, I try to drown out the noises that no one should _ever_ have to hear from his own brother and concentrate on kicking Paul’s ass in the game. I’m just about to whoop him ninja-style when I hear the loudest, _raunchiest_ porn-star moan I have ever heard in my life. From _Joel_.

Needless to say, I’m laughing entirely too hard to press the correct combination on my controller, and my character ends up doing some kind of white-boy dance on the screen and gives me a funny look. Paul’s guy isn’t moving either, and I glance his way to see if he’s as amused as I am.

He’s not. An indescribable look has taken over his face, a kind of half-smile and half-what the fuck? His eyes meet mine for a brief second before darting towards the ground, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks.

Oh, hell. He’s _uncomfortable_. Who wouldn’t be? Obviously not me, but I’ve spent my entire life witnessing my brother’s sexual encounters. (Not by choice, mind you.) I immediately feel like an asshole for suggesting we hook the PS2 up in my hotel room instead of his. I should have known Joel would bring some skank back to his room and ‘show her the Madden special’. (I claim no rights to that line, by the way. That stroke of genius is all his.)

“Want to move this to your room?” I ask, saving the game and rolling up my controller.

“If you don’t mind,” Paul says quietly, his gaze still on the floor.

Actually, I do mind. Paul’s room smells like ass and it’s a longer walk to my bed. But really, if Joel keeps on like that, I might have to start cat-calling through our adjoining doors and cheering him on. It’s probably a good idea that I leave, because I don’t quite care for getting chased around my room by my half-naked, sexually-frustrated twin brother. [The first time was bad enough](http://www.agirlcalledkil.com/?p=287).

“Nah, I don’t mind at all,” I lie. Sue me.

We pack up the game and head down to Paul’s room, which is surprisingly clean. Joel-and-skank’s marathon sex noises are no longer audible, and Paul breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Sorry, man,” he tells me, his eyes darting aimlessly around his room as though he can’t look directly at me. “I don’t know what my problem is. Guess it’s been awhile for me, too.”

“It’s cool,” I say dismissingly, watching him curiously as he hooks up the game to his TV. His final statement sinks into my brain, and once again I speak before I think. “That was turning you on, wasn’t it?”

He finally looks at me, much like a deer would look into oncoming headlights. I don’t really know what kind of expression I’m giving him, but I’m pretty sure it’s not one that says ‘you are sooo busted and I’m sooo going to make fun of you for the rest of your _life_ about this’.

He clears his throat nervously, tosses me one of the controllers, and sits on the corner of the bed closest to the door, which is as far away from me as possible. “Let’s just play,” he says briskly.

“No, I asked you a question.” I’ve been told I can be quite stubborn; I suppose this is one of those moments. “It’s okay, you know. Some people get off on watching or listening to other people have sex. It’s called voyeurism, and -”

“I know what fucking voyeurism is,” he snaps, clapping his hands over his mouth before he even finishes speaking. “Shit, I’m sorry, Benj. Hell, out of everyone, I should be able to talk to _you_ about this, right?” He takes a breath. “It’s just that – well, I mean – what I’m trying to say is…”

“You can go back over there if you want,” I suggest brightly. “Usually I’m all for voyeurism too, but not when it involves my brother.”

“Benji, I think I like guys,” Paul blurts out, cringing as though I’m going to beat him with the controller or something.

This doesn’t faze me. “So you like my brother?”

Paul considers this. “I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I’m confused. “Either you like him or you don’t, Paul.”

“I don’t think I like him like that, no.” Paul frowns. “Joel’s a little too -”

“Straight?” I supply.

Paul laughs. “Actually, no, I’m surprised there aren’t rainbows and smiley faces bouncing out of his ass.”

“Thanks for that mental image, buddy,” I say, making a face. “So how does hearing Joel bang his Skank of the Week make you think you like guys?”

“I… um…” He bites his lip. “His moaning was hot, okay?”

“Are you sure it wasn’t her? She was just as loud as he was.”

“No, no. It was him.”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “You think my brother’s moaning is hot, but you don’t want to do him.”

“Right.”

“And this somehow makes you think you like guys.”

He sighs, knowing damn well I’m not going to let up until I get the full story. “It’s something I’ve been sitting on for awhile… years, actually.”

“ _Really_.” My eyebrows are in danger of flying off of my forehead. I certainly wasn’t expecting that. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? We’ve been friends forever.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know how you would take it.” Paul shakes his head and chuckles. “Okay, that’s a lie. I knew you’d be helpful and supportive, just like you are now. It’s just that… oh, hell, I don’t know.”

“Dude, it’s cool,” I say. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

We play two rounds of our game, and I’m noticing that Paul really isn’t into it. I don’t even have to attempt ninja-style to beat him, and I’m nothing without a challenge.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I’ve fucked around with guys?”

Paul’s head snaps towards me. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Just a couple times. And I know Joel has too, but don’t ever tell him I told you that. He prefers the skanks, though.”

“And you?” he asks. “What do you prefer?”

I think about this. “It depends on the person,” I explain. “I’m attracted to the actual person before I notice their gender, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” he says. “In fact, that’s exactly how I’m feeling. I find myself attracted to this particular person, who just so happens to be a guy.”

I resist the urge to laugh out loud. It has to be Billy. Oh, Billy and Paul would be so _cute_ together. I can’t keep from smiling.

“That doesn’t make you gay,” I assure him. “Well, okay, maybe a little gay. But not all the way gay, because you still like chicks, right?”

Paul nods frantically.

“Do you know if this guy is gay or bi or what?”

“He definitely likes guys,” Paul answers without hesitation.

That little fucker never said anything to me. I bet he went to Joel. Ew, Billy and Joel – I seriously need to sanitize my brain now.

“So tell him you want to go out with him.” Shrugging, I toss my controller aside. I’m obviously going to be giving ‘guy advice’ for the next hour or so. When did I become the damn dick expert? “Guys are a lot easier to hit on than chicks. I really don’t see why a lot more of us don’t bat for the other team. It’s certainly a surefire way to get off.”

Paul’s jaw drops. “Have you… _fucked_ a guy?”

“Yeah,” I admit shamelessly. “It’s different than fucking a chick, I’ll tell you that much. And on the other end, it doesn’t hurt as bad as you’d think it would. At least not if the guy knows what he’s doing.”

Staring at me as though I’ve grown two heads, Paul opens and closes his mouth before laughing. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see you as a bottom.”

“Me neither,” I agree. “It just felt right at the time. It’s weird, you know, once you’re in the moment, you don’t really care as long as it feels good.”

Paul nods slowly, falling silent. I can almost see the question forming in his head, and I’m the world’s worst mind-reader. I save him the embarrassment and ask it myself.

“Do you want to fuck around with me? You know, just to see if you like it?”

Now I’ve apparently grown five heads. “Um, sure.”

I honestly didn’t expect him to agree. Right away, even. Joel’s moaning must have really done a number on him. I see that I’m going to have to make the effort to get up and go sit next to him on the other bed, and I take the time to replay the night’s events in my mind. In the past half hour, I have endured the trauma of hearing my brother have sex, discovered that my best friend likes guys (namely, my other best friend), admitted that I’ve taken it up the ass, and now I’m going to fuck around with Paul. The things I do for my band.

Paul’s not a bad-looking guy, not at all. He’s kind of chubby, but so am I. He has pretty eyes and a nice smile, and he’s very fun-loving and attentive. Yeah, I can do this, in the name of helping out a friend and all.

He watches me approach him, and I smile warmly and meet his eyes as I sit next to him on the edge of the bed. He kind of looks like a teenage girl waiting to be asked to the Prom, but I decide not to tell him that. Instead, I place my hand over his and give his fingers a light squeeze, expecting his flinch.

“We can stop whenever you want,” I say quietly. “I don’t plan on going much further than touching, at least not tonight. If you want to do this again and go further, that’s okay with me. And you don’t have to touch me if you don’t want to. I can take care of myself when I get back to my room.”

Paul chuckles, and I know he’s thinking of that time Joel said I masturbate more than anybody else on the tour. Well, it’s true. I see no problem in loving myself, quite frequently even. At least I can keep my hand off of my crotch in public, unlike _some_ people.

I reach up to cup his face with my hand, feeling his surprisingly soft skin as though he just had a shave. He inhales sharply and closes his eyes for a brief second, and I examine his bottom lip, slightly pink from where he bit into it earlier. I never realized how full it looks, like he’s constantly pouting. It’s incredibly sexy, and now I really do want to kiss him.

His eyelids flip open and he whispers, “I’m ready.”

Good, because now that I’m looking directly into his light brown eyes, seeing the warmth and trust I hadn’t taken the time to notice before, I’m ready too. I lean towards him and barely brush my lips against his, pulling back slightly when he jumps. It’s nerves, I know; I was once in his place, and I remember how it goes. Smoothing my thumb comfortingly under his chin, I kiss him again, and this time I let my lips linger on his. He’s frozen in place, and I lower my face to kiss along his bottom lip in an effort to get him to reciprocate.

After a few seconds, I start to feel the tension leave his body and take the opportunity to outline his slightly parted lips with my tongue. A low moan vibrates from the back of his throat, and I instinctively poke my tongue through the opening of his mouth. I’m pleasantly surprised when it’s met with his, and we both angle our heads to deepen the kiss.

Paul is a good kisser. All of the other guys I’ve kissed have more or less just shoved their tongues in my mouth like it’s a competition or something, but Paul is taking his time to explore my mouth as though memorizing every inch. The tip of his tongue flicks against one of my lip rings from inside and I can’t suppress the growl forming from deep in my lungs. In a way, this is new to me too.

His hand lightly rests on the back of my neck and it takes me awhile to realize he’s slowly urging me forward. In silent compliance, I lower him down to the bed and maneuver my body beside his as opposed to completely on top of him. I wrap my arm around his torso and gently run my fingers along his abdomen, through his shirt, and he tightens his grip on my neck and turns onto his side to face me.

My fingers slip under his shirt and trail aimlessly around his stomach, wandering through the sporadic patches of chest hair upon the smooth flesh. He gasps into my mouth as the pad of my thumb grazes over his nipple, and his hand grasps onto my arm in an obvious plea for more.

I’m reluctant to abandon his mouth, but I continue kissing his face as I make my way down his jaw line to his ear.

“I’m going to take your shirt off, okay?”

He nods, his breaths ragged, and his glazed-over eyes meet mine for a brief second before I tug his shirt over his head and carelessly toss it aside. And then his mouth is on mine again, leaning up to meet me halfway before pulling me back down; his kisses become persistent.

My brain grows kind of fuzzy but I remember what he wants. I run my hand up and down his bare chest a few times, teasing him, before returning my thumb to his nipple. Both of his hands are on my lower back, under my shirt, kneading the muscles as though it would help release his tension, and he’s kissing me like it’s the means of survival.

I rub the taut bud in circular motions, swallowing his noises of content. Paul has the most sensitive nipples of any man I’ve ever been intimate with, but that’s okay because his gasps and moans are really turning me on. I don’t remember when I got hard, only that right now my erection is straining in my pants and I’m sincerely hoping that Paul is going to return the favor.

As though he’s reading my mind, he grasps the bottom of my shirt and starts tugging it up. I pull away from him long enough to discard the garment and return to ravishing him, hungry for any type of skin-on-skin contact. My lips are on his face, his neck, his collarbone; in an instant, I forget that is he Paul-my-friend and instead concentrate on pleasing Paul-my-lover.

I close my mouth over his nipple and he cries out and clutches the back of my head as I flick my tongue over the bud. My hand traces his waistline, following the rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales sharply, and I hear his voice in my mind before he actually speaks.

“Benji… please… please touch me.”

Groaning against his skin, I press the palm of my hand against the button of his pants and rub down the length of his fly before wrapping my fingers around the bulge and squeezing firmly. Jesus, he’s as hard as a rock. He arches his back and cries out again, twisting his fingers in what little hair I have and pulling my head off of his chest and onto his shoulder. He attaches his mouth to my neck and alternates between sucking and nibbling before launching a full oral assault on my ear.

“ _Fuck_ , Benji,” he whispers heatedly. “God… please… fuckin’ clothes…”

My cock is in danger of imploding, and I try my best not to hump his leg as I lean my forehead against his shoulder and fumble with the button of his pants one-handed. The button pops open and Paul’s hand joins mine in a team effort to push down the offending material. I grab his cock the minute it springs free, so thick and fucking _hard_ in my hand, and I slowly stroke the entire length while he moans directly into my ear. A shiver takes over my entire body and I am no longer physically able to fight off the overwhelming urge for friction; I press my groin against his hip and groan in relief, praying he doesn’t get mad.

“Shit, Benj, you’re so hard.” His words mixed within jagged breath feels like oral penetration, and any pretense I might have had flies out the window when he sucks my earlobe into his mouth and flicks my earring with his tongue. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Really, I wish he would shut the fuck up, because he seriously can’t expect me to think coherently right now let alone speak. I mutter something into his collarbone that contains the word ‘you’ and he seems to accept that, happily even, judging by the firm grip he has on my ass as he presses me closer against him.

“Can we…” he begins, trailing off into another moan as I tighten my fingers around his cock and circle the head with my thumb. “Is there anyway we can, you know, get off together?”

Christmas has come early. My face breaks out into a grin as I raise my head to look at him, and I almost forget what I was going to say when I see the heat in his eyes. Fucking hell, Billy is a lucky bastard. Part of me is extremely jealous that I can’t keep Paul for myself, while at the same time I want to forget about that and enjoy this as long as I possibly can.

“Yeah,” I answer hoarsely, searching my cloudy haze of a brain for the words I’m looking for. “We can rub them together.”

“Okay,” he rasps. “Let’s do that. I want to do that.”

I let go of his erection to fumble with my own pants, and once again he helps me and, within no time, my pants are around my knees and I’m crawling on top of him. I hover over him for a minute, confirming my permission in his eyes before lowering my body onto his and emitting a feral moan as our naked flesh touches.

“God, Benji,” he growls deeply, and it’s all I can do not to come from those words alone.

Now I have a different reason for needing him to shut up, so I capture his mouth and kiss him fiercely as I blindly snake a hand between our sweat-slicked bodies to grasp both of our cocks. I smear our combined precome up and down both of our lengths before gripping them tightly and pumping slowly but intensely.

Paul moans into my mouth and begins sucking on my tongue in a rather suggestive way as one of his hands joins mine. I let him take over and lift my hand to squeeze the heads of our cocks together. His pace is a little slower than mine was and I try to make up for it by thrusting against him. I want to break our kiss, bury my face into his shoulder and just let go, but there’s something intriguing about struggling to concentrate on something as innocent as a kiss while doing something else that’s not-so-innocent.

Apparently, I have more self-control than Paul does, because in one swift motion he tears his mouth away from mine and tosses his head back, screaming my name while his cock pulses and spills into my hand. After that beautiful performance, I couldn’t have held off any longer if my life depended on it, and I immediately follow his orgasm with mine, biting down into the first piece of flesh I find as I come harder than I ever have before. Bright lights flash before my eyes and I seriously think I’m blind for a minute until I realize my eyes are just squeezed shut.

“Fuck, Benji,” says Paul, his voice barely audible over the heavy pants for air. “Yeah, I think I like guys.”

This makes me laugh, and I’m still chuckling as I roll off him and grab some tissues from the nightstand. I toss a few at him and do a half-assed job at cleaning myself up, figuring I’ll take a shower when I go back to my room.

“Well, I’m glad I could help you figure it out,” I say lightly, returning my pants to their previous state and glancing around the room in a lazy hunt for my shirt. “If you ever want to do it again, just say the word.”

“The word,” he says, and I abandon my search to turn and face him. He’s completely red-faced and still trying to catch his breath with his pants around his knees, making no effort to even move.

“What, right now?”

“No,” he says sternly. “Later. Like… I don’t know. Sometime. Preferably a lot of sometimes.”

I raise an eyebrow, wondering if he’s always this incomprehensible post-coital. Maybe it’s like when people try to wake me up from a dead sleep and I talk to them about toasters or the sudden appearance of a pie in the road.

“What about Billy?” I ask, trying to keep the bitterness from showing in my voice.

Now Paul looks confused. “Billy? What does Billy have to do with – Oh, my _God_ , you’re seeing Billy aren’t you!”

I snort. “Um, no. I didn’t even know he liked guys until you said something earlier.”

“I didn’t say anything about Billy.”

I examine Paul’s face as a brief flash of understanding and fear deepens his blush.

“Oh, so it’s not Billy you’re attracted to then,” I say, feeling like an asshole. “My bad. You said it wasn’t Joel so I figured it was Billy.”

“No, dipshit, it’s you.”

I snort again, because I think he’s being sarcastic until I raise my eyes and see his stone-serious expression.

My jaw drops, and suddenly I feel like _I’m_ the teenage girl waiting to be asked to the Prom. “Really?”

Paul nods nervously. “It’s cool if you don’t feel that way about me,” he says quickly. “I don’t mind just fucking around. And you said we could do it again, so -”

“Paul, shut up.”

I lunge across the bed and land halfway on top of him, claiming his mouth once again in an effort to physically explain my feelings. His arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me close, and I might have lost my mind for a minute because the next thing I know, he abruptly breaks the kiss and stares directly into my eyes.

“It’s you, Benji,” he says softly. “It’s always been you.”

I smile and lean into his embrace. “I heard you the first time.”


End file.
